About Chatting with Oneself

I'd often stop by the plaza early Sunday mornings before heading to the hospital to visit Hal.

That was when I noticed the Grey Ones, those few souls who don't want to be in the crowds that come later. They just want to be around a few other people before they quietly head home.

I began to notice this group when Hal's life was winding down and I wasn't in the mood to do my errands with lots of life around me.

Mostly the Grey Ones were women, some speaking softly while examining the wares on the shelves.

"Make a note for later," I thought, "Don't speak to myself when out in public."

Good idea.

Now that I'm on my own and have many attributes of a Grey One, I speak aloud to myself in public but not enough to alert the staff that I may need a keeper.

Don't know when I stopped worrying about it.

I like those moments when a fellow-traveler is chatting to herself, comparing the price between the peas and corn, then she catches my glance and knows immediately that I'm a member of the club.

We smile at one another and walk on.